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feyreswaterybowels · 1 year ago

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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muffinsin · 6 months ago

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Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 3: Unravel Me

[TWs for this chapter: Kidnapping, light drugging]

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Daniela walks slowly, her legs carrying her forth towards the front of the strange manor. The sound of the wind passing through little creeks in the stony mountains near have her flinch, the sound of the waterfall nearby so loud she barely hears anything else. She steps towards the door, then, when her hand pushes flatly against it, the wooden thing opens easily. Unlocked.

Cautiously, she looks inside. She can’t help her curiosity, though. All her life, living only at the castle, having only been in the village a few times to taunt some of the villagers here and there or to collect a maid. This is new. Mother wouldn’t approve, she knows. Cassandra would drag her back, she knows. Bela would make her return, she knows. She’s no fool, after all. But, this is so curious, so tempting.

She sees the inside, the dark wooden floors, the rocking chair and table, on top a bowl with wool, the thread leading deeper into the house. Daniela eyes it curiously, tracking it so far as she can before it leads past a corner she cannot see. She squirms a little. The manor is so invitingly warm, seems so familiar. So right, even.

It’s long since she’s heard the worried cries of her sister pleading with her to show herself. She feels lost, yet has never felt this welcome.

Some force pushes her into the warm house, and suddenly the sounds from the outside are completely sealed away as the door shuts behind her. Suddenly, her back burns, and Daniela doubles over at the pain. She cries out, whimpering into the nothingness when she feels the faint touches again, cupping her wet cheeks this time. But she sees no one, nothing- nothing but dolls and furniture and decorative plates on the walls. All is so different from how it looks at the castle.

Beneath her dress, the branding symbol of the Beneviento house sears as it comes back to surface. At least, it doesn’t hurt as bad as the first time, she feels, yet the sensation is enough for thick tears to roll down her cheeks and for her lips to dry, parted as she screams.

Then, just when she thinks it won’t stop anymore, the pain comes to an abrupt halt.

She straightens again, getting back to her feet. The manor looks abandoned, but something feels off. The lure is still there, the urge to follow it even more so. The Dimitrescu doesn’t yet know she is right in the beast’s belly, about to be swallowed whole.

Golden eyes trace over the dolls, each dressed in dark and light dresses alike, their porcelain skin beautiful. Then, she finds the string of green wool again.

She can’t help but reach for it, holding it gently between her fingers as she follows it deeper into the house. She finds a kitchen, large and spacious, but far less regal looking than any room back at the castle. No, this manor has no bright, golden and red colours. All here is dark and faded, but homely, humble even, in some way. It feels inviting, somehow. She feels a little less lonely in this seemingly empty house than she does at the large castle, she realises. She wonders; perhaps she can show this to Bela and Cassandra when she’s back.

Abandoning the string for a moment, Daniela inspects the kitchen. Despite the manor’s abandoned style, all is in place and tidy, save for the string. She opens a few cabinets, finding ingredients and tools she has seen at the castle, too. Cooking tools, she guesses. She finds bread and berries, herbs and silverware. As she caresses the counters with her fingertips, she finds not even the faintest trace of crumbs on it. On the counter are vases, sporting yellow, red and even white flowers. She allows her fingertip to trace a petal gently, before her attention drifts to the part of the room besides the kitchen.

A table, small, and a sofa and chairs. A bookshelf. Immediately, she rushes towards it, a large smile on her dark painted lips. Then, she flinches back when she finds a doll sitting on one of the chairs. It’s dressed in a simple black dress, voluminous and rich looking. Her hair is cut short, to her shoulders, but looks adorable paired with the little black hat sat on it. Daniela can’t help but smile. She reminds her of the dolls Alcina had gotten her and her sisters as reborn fly spawns, back when her sisters had the time to play dress up and play with dolls with her, back when they had time to indulge her and participate in her parties. Now, she can only do so by forcing some maidens to join in, though knows they never quite want to. And even as she tries it occasionally, a tea party with only her and some mangled corpses as attendants just isn’t any fun.

“Aren’t you a cutie!”, she praises, and while the doll doesn’t move or answer, unsurprisingly to her, she finds she feels a strange sensation of pride and satisfaction spread within her body, emerging right from the mark on her back. She giggles at the light feeling, thinking nothing of it, and turns back to the shelf.

There, she pulls some books aside, though frowns when she finds no romances or fairytales among them. Still, at the back of her mind she notes that Bela would likely enjoy the many studies and biographies the bookshelf holds. Maybe she’ll show her those, if she ever stops working and has the time to see this place for herself, she can’t help but think bitterly.

Finding nothing of interest, she returns to the string and follows it deeper into the place.

Rounding a corner, she finds another hallway, less rich than any in the castle, even feeling somewhat claustrophobic. She pauses for a moment, watching the string as it leads down the hallway and right to a corner, again.

“Good”

She jumps at the voice, low and ghost-like, coming from the walls. Or her head? Daniela shivers a little at the mere thought of such a thing.

“Closer”, it beckons. She can’t help but obey.

She follows the string again, finding two doors at the hallway. She reaches for the handle of one, but shrieks when the string in her hand burns hotly, matching her sore back. Immediately she returns to the middle of the hallway, looking around somewhat like one might describe a lost puppy. The poor thing is panting, feeling the string and her back calm again. Clearly, there is no time to explore the place to her liking.

Her feet move beyond her control, carrying her deeper into the quiet house. She finds more dolls sat along the counters and the floor, all seemingly watching her. She shivers, walking on her own again, her curiosity growing.

Rubbing the string between her fingertips, she wonders whether this is it. Could it be? Could her lost lover be trying to contact her? Will this mark the end of her loneliness? She shivers, the air heavy, but still she feels anticipation.

As she walks down the hallways of the manor, deeper and deeper, memories return to her.

Memories of sitting by the flowers, crying, a kind woman comforting her. Dressed in black, intriguing. She knew her, she knows. But, who? She follows the string to an elevator and giggles. How modern! Oblivious to the danger she is in, Daniela steps inside and allows its metallic doors to close behind her. She shivers again at the ghostly touches caressing her back and shoulders. Already, she feels less lost, less alone. This must be it!

Without pushing a button, the elevator moves downwards.

Another memory hits her, of herself this time. She feels what she felt, the love and anticipation and submission as she kneels on the ground for the woman before her. She feels the woman’s fingers on her, caressing her cheeks, then trapping her chin. She looks up obediently despite the elevator being empty aside from her and a few dolls she hadn’t noticed before. She thinks nothing of it, she likes the small puppets.

Daniela gasps as another phantom touch has her feel a hand sliding past her back and her hip. The memory is gone, but she feels it, she feels how very close she is.

Just a little more, then she knows.

She must know.

Just a little more.

When the doors open, she gasps as something hits her, something familiar. She feels as if in a trance yet again, pheromones around her leading and luring her in, her vision slightly blurred, her body heavy, her flies entirely unresponsive. She doesn’t jump when the dolls by her side jump to life, doesn’t flinch away when their little hands grab at hers and lead her out the elevator.

She follows obediently, her head a fuzzy, blurry mess.

“Come”

“Closer”

“Very good”

The voice, so low, so beautiful. She knows it, she’s so sure she’s heard it before, but where? She closes her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she is led along.

Daniela no longer cares for exploring, for her environment, for returning to Bela, for retreating to the castle again. She needs to follow the voice, needs to find its origin, her lover so close, she’s so sure. Her soulmate, her everything. It all feels almost within her grasp, now. They’d understand if she stayed away just a little more, she’s sure.

The memory of the previous night continues on, Daniela sees the dark, shadowy figure of a woman. She hears her low voice, the same she hears now. She feels lightheaded, smiles wide when she feels the memory of being undressed. She doesn’t notice the ghostly phantom hands return to her, copying the movements she’s remembering until the torn cape clasped off and her dress comes off. She’s so happy, so calm, so utterly lost to her love and the memory.

She feels the love she felt, feels the warm embrace. Her back burns and it feels so nice and warm, so comforting. She’s so lost in everything, Daniela doesn’t even notice it when the collar always hugging her throat is removed, the green gemstone breaking as it falls to the floor abruptly. She can’t bring herself to notice, can’t bring herself to care, to resist. She will be taken care of, she will be loved. The poor, delusional thing is dreamily thinking of introducing her lover to her family.

She feels the sensation of the memory, her hands grabbed and moved behind her back, setting her up in a perfectly submissive position. Her legs still move, carry her deeper. She’s so close, she knows it. She leans into her memories, pleading with the mysterious woman to grant her more, to let her remember the last night to its fullest.

Daniela’s body flushes as she remembers being pushed against her lover’s cunt, her nose grazing her clit. She remembers the fingers dipping into her in turn and instinctively pushes her thighs together even as she walks. She feels it, almost, the blissful feeling and taste of it all.

“Good girl”

“Come closer, my darling”, Donna coos, sensing how the petnames feed into poor Daniela’s delusion. She’s so close, nearly has her doll precisely where she needs her.

Daniela gasps as she walks blindly, led by the dolls and the phantom hands at her hips and shoulders. She tastes the woman’s lips, tastes them against her gentler ones. She feels it, almost sees her, almost there. She sees dark clothing, strong, skilled fingers. She hears her voice, commanding her to spread her legs, she feels the pleasure that follows from her obeying. Why would she ever not want to obey? She loves the sweet reward that follows.

Donna watches as Daniela steps into the dark workshop, her eyes open but glossy, her reality turned completely, trapping the little doll in her delusions and memories, a fantasy world created by none other than her skilled dollmaker.

She doesn’t move, leans confidently against the workbench as Daniela approaches her, led and pushed gently, completely bared to her save for her soaked underwear and stockings. She sees the woman’s hard nipples reacting to the environment, smells her arousal even.

Daniela gasps as she’d made to cum, her back burning, so bad, so good. She’s cradled, her eyes heavy. When she gazes up, she finds the dark eye of none other than Donna Beneviento.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #donna beneviento #smoke and mirrors #daniela dimitrescu x donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu

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daitranscripts · 9 months ago

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Cole Conversations

Companion Comments

Cole Masterpost

Dialogue options:

Cassandra [1]

Blackwall [2]

Iron Bull [3]

Dorian [4]

Solas [5]

Vivienne [6]

Varric [7]

Sera [8]

Leliana [9]

Josephine [10]

Cullen [11]

1 - Cassandra

Romanced Cole: Petals fall open as lips shape words that rhyme. Candlelight softens the edges.

Cassandra’s personal quest incomplete Cole: Stomach full of mantras, she burns like a beacon, Faith a flame to bring succor for a Seeker.

Cassandra’s personal quest complete Cole: Faith seeks a friend in Compassion, cautious, careful, too much grey but growing.

2 - Blackwall

Romanced He feels naked without the name on the armor, but now he knows you want him naked.

Blackwall’s personal quest incomplete An old name burns inside armor that shouldn't fit, lit by faces of the children he couldn't save.

Blackwall’s personal quest complete The name breaks free, pulls the pain with it. A black wall to shield the self when the sky is rainier.

3 - Iron Bull

Romanced Tied, but tenderly, loving in the letters of a word that would stop it, knots in satin scarves.

Personal quest active “The,” a joke. He laughs to himself, imagining herds of cattle in fields of iron, but now he worries it fits.

Personal quest complete, made Tal-Vashoth Salt-spray smell of Seheron. Lost in smoke from a burning ship. Guilt at not feeling guiltier.

Personal quest complete, sacrificed the Chargers Copper on the lips. Dalish lies dead-eyed beside me. He'll come, he'll call, he won't leave us. Horns pointing up.

4 - Dorian

Romanced Glittering to gloss a hidden hurt. Unlearning not to hope for more. Stumbling steps where the wall used to be.

Giselle gave letter, have not met Dorian’s father Bright, like the fish that kill you if you eat them. Can't hate you for hiding if you burn so brilliantly.

After meeting Dorian’s father He tried to melt a snowflake because he liked waterfalls. Swallowing bile and pride as he sees his son defend himself.

5 - Solas

Cole’s personal quest complete Voice ringing with fullness from both worlds, guiding me to the shining places. He calls himself Pride.

High approval, other conditions unknown Old pain, shadows forgotten from dreams too real. This side is slow and heavy, but here is what can change.

Personal quest completed Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn't save. He carries necessary deaths.

6 - Vivienne

Personal quest not started A breath-caught smile from the Enchanter as the candle lights. The walls are safe; she will never be hungry again.

Personal quest completed A cold flame blazes in a robe worth more than children. Protect her, and she consumes you, burning because she can.

7 - Varric

Cole’s personal quest complete Kid, says the stone. Kid, kidding. It would keep me kept with a name, but the cairn can't catch me.

Hawke lives, other conditions unknown He writes words that aren't real, but they are for him, in a quiet place whose stone shape shakes the ground.

Hawke left in the Fade The stone is cracked, split, jagged. The hawk would have been safe if it had stayed, but that isn't what hawks do.

8 - Sera

Romanced Fleet-footed and free, the arrow that caught the miller's sack, but no longer shot alone, aquiver in a quiver.

Cole more human Shite. He's wrong. Dead-eyed crazy, shite. I called him a 'him'. Is he alive, is everything alive, shite. I hate raisins.

Cole more spirit She hurts, but helping hurts more. She sees the strings that pull me, eyes like raisins in a stale cookie.

9 - Leliana

Leliana’s personal quest not started The Left Hand remembers a knife slipped to her in the darkness, and wonders why the flower blooms.

Leliana hardened The Left Hand is harder, faith fallen in folly. It makes the dreams worse, but sends them away faster.

Leliana softened The Left Hand blooms on the bush, remembering the light that shone in her darkness. She knows how to sing again.

10 - Josephine

Romanced Steel flashes, like at the top of the stairs, but this time she knows her voice and it ends with a kiss.

Josephine’s personal quest started She spins, plucking strings, matching wits and words, an admiral who will never send ships of her own.

Josephine’s personal quest complete Ships launch on changing winds. Dizzy sometimes, like the top of the stairs, but sometimes like dancing.

11 - Cullen

Romanced Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him.

Personal quest incomplete, talked about lyrium He is quiet, behind the noise. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests the chains.

Continued lyrium He sounds right again with the chains in place, but the music makes him sad.

Quit lyrium He sounds new, echoes of laughter on an empty riverbed. Not for sailing, but safer.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #dragon age transcripts #dai transcripts #dragon age dialogue #dai dialogue #long post #cole #good grief this one was a doozy

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blorbologist · 4 months ago

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Architects of our Demise | Chapter 19

[ Age of Arcanum AU | Perc'ahlia | M | Updates every 2 weeks]

[ Vax is the Warden of Ravens, Vex is his Champion, Percival is the creator of aeormatons, and FCG is ~vibing~ ]

[Chapter 19: Avalir is host to many wonders: hodmedods, magic billboards, a giant waterfall... and daddy issues. It's the perfect setting for a breathtaking realization, really. ]

Avalir’s put-together façade fractures as soon as they’re inside the city proper; there are illusionary advertisements everywhere. All animated, all colorful - and just as distracting as intended.

Scanlan’s style seems a touch more sensible in context.

Trinket grumbles in distress: a cloth - cloth something, in patches of Avalir’s colors, is blocking the bear’s path. “Excuse me, miss or sir or otherwise,” it says in a cheerful drawl, “are you licensed to have an animal companion? Pets, beasts and experimental subjects must be registered to account for their food intake. Remember that Avalir’s infinite resources are actually quite finite!”

Cassandra jumps back - Percival does not.

“Yes, yes, the bear’s with me. I guess.” Scanlan waves it off. (“What do you mean I guess?? ” Vex hisses.)

Before the construct can bumble away, Percival gently plucks it by the top of its round head - it’s stuffed with what feels like paper, interesting. There seems to be a cord to keep it in the proper shape, which is sensible, but where is the source of the enchantment -

“Hey now! You are manhandling property of the Golden Scythe! Any damages will be charged to you to cover my repairs!”

“Just a moment,” Percy hums, turning it over in his hands. There! On the inside portion - stitched enchantment runes. He runs his fingers over shiny thread; copper, by his guess, to conduct the energy, but what about the programmed phrases in Common -

Vex is at his side, smiling. “They’re cute, right?”

“Exquisitely so!”

“... But you should definitely put it down, darling.”

“Yes - of course.”

As soon as it’s free, the little scarecrow rights itself, ambles right, then continues on its straight path down the boulevard. When Trinket sniffs it as it passes, the initial message repeats itself.

The bear cautiously retreats behind Vex, who sighs fondly. Yet there’s a threadbare quality to her voice as she says, “Percy, darling - we’re in a bit of a rush here.”

“Oh, surely not that much of a rush! I’ve never had the chance to see a hodmedod in person before,” Percy gushes. “Cloth-based constructs. Very primitive, of course, compared to what I’ve accomplished - as you saw it only had a set of pre-programmed responses -”

Scanlan tuts. “We’ll bump into more while we’re here; my place is just a street down. Get moving!”

[From the beginning] [Keep reading on AO3!]

#*points* NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERD #also we got an 'oh. OH.' moment in here y'all #critical role #perc'ahlia #percahlia #percival de rolo #vex'ahlia #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #cassandra de rolo #syldor vessar #avalir #my writing #age of arcanum au

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witchlingcirce · 9 months ago

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I’m so bored rn so I want to overanalyse Cassandra Clare’s recent post about her in Sweden and what that could mean for TWP!!!.

And two quick side notes before we begin: I don’t know a lot about Sweden, so if anyone wants to add onto too any of my points please do!! Or correct me, all is welcome <3!! ALSO, I’m sure 99% of these photos are just nice pictures from her holiday trip :), I am just bored and deciding to look far too into it!!

FIRST OFF IS THIS LAKE, now this one kind of confirmed to have something to do with kit & Ty:

Okay so obviously Kit & Ty need to get past this river, so this leads me to wonder why: either A: there running from someone/something, B: there’s an objective at the end of the lake.

The phrasing of “Could Ty & Kit cross that river” leads me believe that they will probably spend a bit of time figuring out how 👀, my theory is that Kit may use his magic and find a way to have them both cross the river, OR maybe Ty will make something for them to cross the river???

Now onto the bit I feel like I DONT SEE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT is the “will they survive”. Now maybe there being chased down by something and maybe the thing being chased down Knicks one of them, and they don’t realise until there over lake 👀 or maybe something malfunctions while there going over the lake???

I stated before that maybe Kit uses his powers, and maybe by doing so, he hurts himself… OR HE HURTS TY (the angst…)

Another possibility, which I’m 100% pulling out my ass rn that relies on whatever season Sweden is in during TWP but maybeee the lake is frozen over and while walking on it, one of them falls in and the other has to save them (this trope always remind me of little woman).

I don’t really have any particular theories about said Cabin, but I do believe that it will be in TWP- so I decided to include it!!!

I feel like the cabin will definitely have some veryyyy romantic moments idk, I mean… a blackthorn loves a good cabin *cough* mark *cough* Julian *cough*

I have a feeling we will see some fun tropes play out in said cabin, one I’ve seen before is the “one bed trope” which I love, and can see happening !! I can imagine maybe some personal moments between the two, talking about certain things ie: what’s happened over the last three years (again this depends on when this takes place during the story)

I also have a feeling that the cabin may be near the lake, so I feel like this kind of relates to my above points!!!

Now… THIS!! I don’t actually know what kind of building this is, so I will not comment on that or anything as such… but the architecture is SO COOL

I feel like this would probably be a destination where they meet someone. Maybe a warlock and or Faerie. The sticks around the structure itself kind of gives me fae vibes, so maybe mother Hawthorne??? Or a new character haven’t seen… but it’s soooo cool and the fog makes it ohhh soooo mysterious

And on a final, and more happy note…. What if Kit & Ty go on a waterfall date :,()

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starlightcleric · 5 months ago

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Below the Tavern

For @owlcatober 2024 day 6: Alone

Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous

Relationships: Commander/Lann (pre-relationship)

Other: mentions of needles, rats

Also on AO3

Cassandra takes a moment to herself in the basement of Defender's Heart, but it turns out she's not alone down there…

Cassandra hugged her knees as she sat, bunched up behind a stack of barrels in the basement of Defender’s Heart. Now that Woljif was no longer “under guard,” few people came down here regularly, and it was one of the few places she could be alone.

She pulled her hood farther over her head as she tried to drown out the stomping feet upstairs. She wasn’t used to this many people. It was… hazy… how many people she would consider normal, but she did know that constantly being elbow to elbow, sharing beds squeezed into one room, was quickly driving her insane. Down here, she at least had some space to hear her own thoughts. Whether she would find anything good there…

Cass rolled up her sleeve to take another look at her arm, not quite believing what she had seen. And again was faced with an expanse of creamy pale skin, deceptively unblemished unless she tilted her arm in the correct light. Then she could make out the field of blemishes from armies of needles. She ran a thumb over a barely perceptible divot on her left wrist, where she had a strong memory of a tube stuffed in her veins that she could have sworn was recently.

And yet…

She rubbed at her chest, at the place where now and again the gaping, bleeding wound would appear. Thankfully for her borrowed clothing, it was not currently making an appearance. That Cassandra truly had no memory of, or explanation. Had her blood manipulation powers progressed to a point of self healing? It seemed unlikely given how much her powers had regressed after her… demon related injuries (that she also couldn’t remember), but she had no other answer.

Cass held her head in her hands, elbows perched on the knees drawn up to her chest as her deep red hair cascaded freely. No other answer. Not for her limbs that felt too long (but she could also move gracefully), for her waterfall of hair (when her mother always kept it chopped short), for her healed injuries (unless they spontaneously felt like bleeding). Time had passed that she could not remember. And for all the people who surrounded her, her fellow survivors of the demonic attack, she did not know how to confide her worries in anyone.

In some ways they felt trivial, when compared to the struggle of immediate survival in Kenabres. Still, even that was a blessing in disguise, for if she could not get out, then there was no way the Technic League could get in to grab her.

She sneezed thoughtlessly, then felt her heart jump into her throat as she heard footsteps down in the basement with her. Cass tried to talk herself down, she had just been thinking about how she was safe here, and she was doing nothing wrong sitting in the basement, but she could not shake the feeling of being hunted as soft footsteps padded in her direction.

Cass pushed herself to her feet and cleared her throat. “Mmh, hello–”

Her breath shot out of her lungs as she was pushed up against the wall and she felt cold metal against her throat. Lann loomed, glaring down at her with one arm holding her against the wall, while in the other hand he held a knife trained against her throat, a second of detached fury mirrored in his brown and yellow eyes.

Cassandra stood, unbreathing, staring at Lann, heat rushing to her ears. Lann stared at Cassandra. Realization slowly flooded his face and he nearly flung himself back from her.

“Oh, gods, Cassandra, I’m so sorry. I–” he ran a hand awkwardly through his mussed brown hair, “I thought you were a burglar skulking around down here.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, trying to find her voice again. Normally just being around Lann raised her heart rate, but now he was pushing it to new limits. “Oh, no, it’s just me…” She dropped her eyes from his and fiddled with the edge of her cloak. “There’s just… a lot of people. Everywhere, all the time…”

“Ah, yeah, I get it,” Lann seemed to be making a conscious effort to relax his body language. “Living in the tribe, everything was communal. It was sometimes nice to go off to a section of cave by myself. I can, uh, just go–”

“Wait,” Cassandra cut him off. Now that he was here, she didn’t want him to leave, but she thought she would die of embarrassment if he knew that. “Um, what brings you down here?” Cassandra asked. “Besides hunting for burglars.”

“Oh, you know,” Lann turned his face away, displaying his scaled side. “Just doing some light rat hunting. As in, actual rats,” he held up a string hanging from his belt. “Couldn’t believe my eyes when I got up here and all the uplanders were just letting perfectly good meat go to waste.”

Cassandra cast her mind back to the before times. Running through the streets of Chesed, she could remember small, skewered bodies at food carts. “Makes sense to me.”

Lann actually visibly relaxed now. “With provisions so stretched, it’s made me feel guilty about not hunting for my own food. I don’t want a kid here to go hungry if I can pull my own weight, you know?”

“Right,” said Cass, nodding.

“I was, uh, actually just about to roast these up.” Lann motioned to where he had made up a fire ring. If you’d like some…?”

“Oh! Yes! Thank you!” Cass ran the edges of her cloak through her fingers. “Though I will admit to having poor cooking skills…”

“I’d be a poor excuse for a man if I couldn’t cook up a juicy rat for a pretty girl,” said Lann as he moved over to his fire ring and struck up a spark.

“Oh, um…” Cass could feel the heat in her cheeks. “Did you cook up rats for Wenduag, too?”

Lann didn’t meet her eyes as he prepared the rats. “Yeah. Wendu… yeah.”

They had almost maybe been having a moment and Cass had ruined it with her big fat mouth. She moved over and sat down next to the fire, across from Lann. “I’m sorry your girlfriend turned out to be a cannibal.” That… probably wasn’t going to make it better.

Lann let out something between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah, well, just your average day in the life in the Worldwound, right?”

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, loud feet clattered down the stairs.

“Is there a fire down here?” Anevia stopped up short. “What the–” She took in Lann and Cassandra sitting on the floor, the fire, and the spit of rats. “I’m probably going to stay more sane if I don’t ask questions, aren’t I?”

“We’re just having a snack,” Cass supplied.

“A… a snack.” Anevia threw her arms up in the air. “Great, now I get to be the one to tell Beth that her new strike team poisoned themselves from eating disease-ridden fleabags! A snack!”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” said Lann, as he adjusted the sides of the rats on the heat. “Rats are practically a delicacy where I come from.”

“I can eat basically anything,” said Cassandra.

Anevia ran a hand down the side of her face. “Nope, nope, I’m done asking questions. I’m going to turn around and leave. Just don’t burn the tavern down. A… a snack.” She shook her head as she stomped back up the stairs.

“Sorry,” Lann was looking down again. “I’m not really used to surface customs. Or… surface women. You don’t have to eat my ‘disease-ridden fleabags.’”

“No!” Cass assured him. “I’d like to try. It’s like…” she struggled for words, “I don’t know how to be normal here, either. But with you, I don’t feel quite so alone against it all.”

Lann gave her a lopsided smile as he passed her a skewer of rat. “Well, one of us grew up in a cave and the other is blessed by heaven, so it doesn’t quite feel like an equal balance, but,” his voice softened, “I’m happy I can help you in some way.”

Cassandra looked down, smiling softly, before biting into her rat. She didn’t know what Anevia was on about, it was just meat.

#wrath of the righteous #crusader cassandra #owlcatober #owlcatober 2024 #commander x lann #fanfic #my writing #trying to actually get through more prompts by not overthinking them too much...

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simpofhans · 4 months ago

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a soft boy 💙💙💙💙💚💚💚💚

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clearholidaysindia · 10 months ago

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Gangarang Waterfall Tourist Spot in Sangla Valley (Baspa Valley), Himachal Pradesh

Gangarang Waterfall is a stunning natural attraction located in the picturesque Sangla Valley of Himachal Pradesh, India. This beautiful waterfall cascades down the rocky cliffs, creating a mesmerizing sight and a serene atmosphere. Surrounded by lush greenery and rugged terrain, Gangarang Waterfall is a perfect spot for nature enthusiasts and adventure seekers. If you’re looking for offbeat places near Gangarang Waterfall, you’ll find several hidden gems that offer unique experiences and breathtaking views.

When exploring places to visit near Gangarang Waterfall, consider a visit to the nearby Batseri Village. This charming village is known for its traditional wooden houses and scenic beauty, making it a great place to immerse yourself in local culture. Another interesting destination is the Sangla Meadows, where you can enjoy the expansive green fields and stunning mountain views. The meadows offer a peaceful retreat and excellent opportunities for photography and relaxation.

For those who enjoy outdoor activities, the Baspa River is a fantastic spot close to Gangarang Waterfall. The river provides a serene environment for leisurely walks and picnics, with its clear waters and picturesque surroundings. Combining the natural beauty of the waterfall with the scenic river and the local charm of Batseri Village makes places to visit near Gangarang Waterfall a delightful experience for travelers seeking both adventure and tranquility.

#clearholidays #Gangarang Waterfall #places to visit near Gangarang Waterfall #Gangarang Waterfall tourism #Gangarang Waterfall travel guide #Himachal Pradesh #india #indian #travel #india travel #india tourism #incredible india #Sangla Valley (Baspa Valley)#Sangla Valley (Baspa Valley)tourism #cassandra clare #cats #cats of tumblr #celebrities #chainsaw man

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sweetjulieapples · 5 months ago

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Dear Commander - Chapter 24: Reunion

Cullen x Trevelyan

AO3 MASTERLIST

Cullen eagerly awaits The Inquisitor's return to Skyhold.

Full chapter below:

Juliette didn’t expect to feel so strongly about her return to Skyhold. Perhaps it was the Fallow Mire—the stench of the bog that clung to her skin, no matter how many times she bathed in the rivers or beneath waterfalls. Or perhaps it was the view. The keep, standing proud and unyielding, nestled in an untouched pocket of snowy mountains. The sight stirred memories of the first time she had laid eyes upon it, a moment that had stolen her breath away. Majestic.

She smiled, almost smirking, as her boots sank into the fresh snow. The crisp mountain air filled her lungs, cold but refreshing. The breeze whispered past her cheeks, caressing her wearied senses.

No, she thought, it certainly had nothing to do with him. She rolled her eyes at her own lie. In truth, she couldn’t ignore the ache that had grown in her chest over the past month, a void left by the silence of a certain colleague. She hadn’t heard from him in weeks, and though she told herself it didn’t matter, her heart softly disagreed.

Not once did he write—no replies, no reports. It was a worrying change in behavior for her usually efficient Commander. What had changed, though, she wasn’t certain.

Halfway across the bridge she stopped, the wind whipping through her hair as she turned over her shoulder. Dorian trailed close behind, dramatic teeth chattering and squinting against the wind. He was never too far away, and while Juliette would often pretend to be annoyed by his presence, she found comfort having him near. Maker knows he’s saved her more times than she would like to admit.

Casandra was further behind. Since the battle at The Mire, she moved a little slower, her leg injury not fully healed. Juliette frowned, that nagging guilt still gnawing at her. She couldn’t help but sneak in glances, just to make sure that Cassandra was still doing okay. So stubborn. She shook her head. If she’d just rest, then perhaps … no, perhaps I should never had cast the fire that injured her in the first place.

Juliette turned back towards the gate, scrunching her nose as she berated herself further. She was determined to set things right, starting with the healers. Or maybe requesting training? Definitely ensuring that communication is more frequent. Is that selfish? Her pace quickened, her thoughts racing as she offered absent-minded smiles and automatic nods to passing officers. He must be in contact more often - that’s not an unreasonable request. No, I’ll tell him so! As Inquisitor I’d like it known that I must be informed of mission progress. I shouldn’t have to go chasing scouts and messengers for updates. Josephine and Leliana kept in contact, so why couldn’t —

“Inquisitor!”

And just like that her thoughts unraveled. Any sense of authority she thought that she could muster fell away at the sound of Cullen’s voice.

Slowly, she looked up, the crease between her brows easing, her eyes softening. The hustle of guardsmen and the chatter of arriving pilgrims blurred into the background when she stepped through the gates. They moved aside as she walked, each step feeling heavier, her heart skipping a beat when her eyes caught sight of him.

Cullen jogged across the courtyard, his pace effortless yet purposeful, drawing the eyes of those around him. His hair was golden in the sunlight, his amor gleaming too, almost as though the sun was shining just to show her that he was there. She couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to.

He was smiling at her, little creases at the corners of his eyes. He almost has a beard now, she thought. Her eyes were drawn to his lips , and that scar, as his smile grew wider. It felt like she was seeing him for the first time, mesmerized by the sight of him—like he hadn’t been in her thoughts constantly for the past several weeks.

Suddenly, he was before her, and she couldn’t think. Everything blurred, her mind completely captured by his presence. She stood there, stunned, lips slightly parted, words caught in her throat.

“Inquisitor,” he said, softer this time, his voice warm and gentle. “Welcome back.”

“Cullmander!” she stammered, the word tumbling out—the wrong word.

Her face flushed instantly, the heat rising in her cheeks as her pulse thrummed in her neck. She stood frozen, embarrassed, her own voice ringing in her ears. She met his gaze, and though his expression softened, she could see the hint of surprise in his eyes.

Her throat tightened, feeling as though she were choking on air. “Commander,” she corrected herself, her voice quiet, almost a whisper.

A sharp inhale filled the air, and she flinched, her heart leaping in her chest. Dorian strolled past with a casual glance, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. She couldn’t bear to look at him, her eyes dropping to the stone ground, mortified. I must look like such a fool.

“There’s something I think you’d like to see,” Cullen said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his, taken aback by the grin spreading across his face. He seemed eager, almost as though he were holding back a laugh at the thought of whatever mystery lay ahead.

“I…okay.”

Cullen walked ahead, weaving through Skyhold’s bustling courtyard. Juliette trailed behind, desperately trying to regain her composure while his back was turned. He’d caught her off guard, meeting her at the gates like that. Had she some time to settle in, to recover from —

“Our workers have done a tremendous job restoring Skyhold while you were away, Inquisitor,” he said, proud and sincere.

She inhaled a deep breath, steadying her nerves. “Yes, I see that.”

“I was quite surprised myself when I returned.” Cullen stopped, turning to face her as she slowed her steps. He smiled and began walking beside her when she caught up.

“Have you been back for long?” Juliette’s voice wavered slightly, the question sounding far softer aloud than it had in her mind.

There were so many thoughts rushing through her—embarrassment at how she was handling herself, resentment for his lack of communication, and confusion over how nonchalant he seemed about it. Most of all, she was curious. Why hadn’t he written? He used to, when she was in The Hinterlands. So why not now?

Cullen shook his head, his voice softening. “I stopped by Haven on my return.”

“Oh,” she murmured, sorrow washing over her. She lowered her eyes, the memories of Haven’s downfall overwhelming. Suddenly, all her worries seemed trivial in comparison. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Thank you, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied earnestly. He sighed heavily, and Juliette looked back up at him. “Bull and his Chargers are still there now. Their work is commendable.”

Juliette nodded, her gaze drifting to the repaired walls connecting to the main building. “Everyone helping deserves recognition. We should see to that, among other things.”

Cullen glanced around the courtyard, a lightness returning to his expression. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, a spark of amusement creeping into his voice. He stopped, folding his arms with a playful smirk. “Turn around.”

“What?” She tilted her head, confusion in her eyes, but then she saw it. Juliette’s eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Cullen chuckled at her reaction, unable to contain the smile that grew wider with each passing second.

“The stables have been fully restored,” he explained proudly. “Perhaps even better than they were originally.”

Juliette turned to Cullen, a blush in her cheeks as their eyes locked. His expression softened, his attention drawn to the pure joy lighting up her face. Their eyes lingered, and a warm feeling of admiration passed between them.

Noticing the movement in the distance, she gasped for a second time. “And there’s horses?”

A laugh escaped Cullen, pure and unguarded. “Were you expecting giant nugs?”

“No! But…” her words trailed off, her laughter faltering when she realized how easily she was reacting to his words. How effortless it was to be happy around him.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, eyeing her with a teasing grin. “I know you want to run straight over there.”

“I…” she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, almost a pout if not for the smirk that gave her away. “Don’t presume to know what I want, Commander.” Juliette moved past him, her face breaking into a beaming smile once her back was turned.

Cullen stood still for a moment, fondly watching her walk to the stables. A small laugh left his lips, soft and genuine, as he noticed how hard she was trying to hide her excitement. He leaned against the barn wall, casually folding his arms, eager to see her reaction unfold further.

When Juliette neared the stables, she froze. It wasn’t until the horse turned his head, that soft snuffling noise he always made when she approached, that she noticed.

“Romeo?” she whispered in shock. She moved closer, her hand cautious as she reached out to touch him. Tears welled up in her eyes while she rested her forehead against his nose, overwhelmed by the unexpected reunion.

“Oh, good to see you’re back, Inquisition,” Dennet greeted. His familiar voice almost went unnoticed as she focused entirely on the horse she thought she’d lost forever.

“Told you she’d cry,” Blackwall remarked, watching her with a gruff chuckle. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, and smiled back.

“I thought he was dragon food,” she said, wiping a stray tear away with the sleeve of her coat. “What a lovely surprise.”

“You’re lucky,” Dennet said, moving into the vacant stall beside Romeo. He leaned over the gate as he spoke. “We almost left the stubborn bastard behind. If not for The Commander insisting we bring him back, I would’ve.”

As the words sank in, Juliette's eyes widened slightly. With a surprised expression she spun around quickly. “Oh, Cullen! Thank —”

Juliette’s words faded when she noticed Cullen far in the distance, walking away. Her shoulders drooped, a wave of disappointment washing over her.

“So…” Blackwall’s voice hung in the air as she stared ahead, her eyes lingering in the place where Cullen last stood. “I hear that you’re fighting Avvar warriors now.”

The main hall was nothing short of glorious. The transformation went beyond mere repairs; Josephine’s influence was evident in every detail, turning the hall into a statement of power and opulence. Elegant drapery flowed from the ceiling, while luxurious tapestries bearing The Inquisition’s emblem adorned the area, greeting guests as they entered. The atmosphere was cozy and intimate, despite the crowd. The warm glow of braziers and chandeliers ensured a comforting reprieve from the cool air outside. The scent of roast pork and baked apples drifted through the air, enticing guests towards the dining tables, loaded with a delicious spread of fresh food.

For a moment, Juliette felt as though she had wandered into the wrong place. She entered the doors expecting quiet, a safe passage to Josephine’s office unnoticed. Instead, she found herself on display. All eyes were on her as she strolled along the stone floors, dazed by crowded space. Some warning would have been nice. I smell like horse and swamp water.

“Oh! Inquisitor!” Josephine’s voice floated through the room, sweet and melodic.

“Josie,” Juliette muttered, her voice low as she weaved past the nobility, striving to avoid further attention. “Who are all these people?”

Josephine’s gaze flicked over the crowded hall before settling on Juliette with a soft, understanding smile. “Visiting dignitaries,” she explained. “I’ll be sure to introduce you at a more…” She trailed off, her eyes catching the state of Juliette’s muddy boots and windswept hair, “…a more suitable time.”

Juliette’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she spoke through clenched teeth, “I’d prefer you introduce me to a bathtub. I must look like I’m blighted.” She gave a quick glance at her disheveled appearance, adding with a grimace, “I feel like I’m blighted.”

“Goodness,” Josephine spoke quietly and placed a gentle hand on Juliette’s arm, guiding her away from sight. “Then I’ve just the place to show you.”

Josephine spoke proudly as she ascended the staircase, her eyes focused on her clipboard. “Have you noticed the renovations?”

“It looks a little tidier around here,” Juliette remarked with a smirk, a playfully sarcastic edge to her voice.

“A little? Oh,” Josephine glanced back at Juliette and laughed softly. “Very good, Inquisitor.”

Juliette peered over the railing, her eyes catching the fallen scaffolding and the dusty debris scattered below. It was a long way down. I wonder if I could climb down there, to escape the Orlesians.

“Downstairs, we now have private bathing quarters,” Josephine continued, a note of triumph in her voice. “No more freezing ourselves with a bucket of tepid water and a sponge.”

“Thank The Maker,” Juliette said, a grateful sigh escaping her lips. “Though I do hope you know I was joking when I requested a marble bathtub.”

“Hm. It’s not the most lavish request that I’ve received as of late.” Josephine paused outside of the door for dramatic effect. “And here we are.”

With a deliberate slowness, she pushed the door open, letting it creak softly. The room beyond was bathed in soft blue hues as light filtered through ornate stained glass windows. Juliette wandered inside, overcome by surprise.

“You certainly spared no expense,” Juliette murmured in wonder, her fingers gliding along the mantle of the fireplace. Slowly, she spun around, taking in the room’s opulent decor with enthusiasm.

“I hope it’s up to standard, your worship,” Josephine said courteously.

Juliette’s breath caught for a second, and a soft chuckle of disbelief escaped her lips. “It’s wonderful, Josie. Truly. Thank you.”

“You’ll find clothing in the dresser. I took the liberty of getting your measurements from the last tailor we ordered from.”

Juliette picked up a silk robe draped over the foot of her bed, fingers gently tracing the fabric. She lifted the garment with care, appreciating its soft quality. “You had this made... for me?”

“If any adjustments are needed, I can arrange it. A seamstress will meet with you in the coming days for your ballgowns.”

“Ballgowns?” Juliette blinked in surprise.

“We have a very busy social calendar leading up to Empress Celene’s ball in Halamshiral. You can’t possibly wear the same dress twice.”

Juliette raised a hand to her forehead as though to steady herself. “This is all so sudden.”

“The court of Orlais moves quickly, Inquisitor. We must be faster,” Josephine replied with firm conviction. “I’ll allow you some time to settle in.”

“Thank you, Josephine,” Juliette smiled, still stunned by it all.

When the door closed and Juliette was left alone, for the first time in months, she was met with silence. The kind of silence that is so painfully quiet it's loud—a ringing in the ears, a suffocating sensation that forces you to breathe a little heavier, just to hear something. She couldn’t recall the last time she had been graced with this much privacy.

She moved across the room with a slow, almost delirious pace, her steps weary. She stood before the dressing table, her fingers gliding over the newly-upholstered stool that accompanied it. She sat down cautiously, acting as though a firmer movement could shatter this illusion of comfort that had been gifted to her. When Juliette’s eyes met her reflection in the mirror, she scarcely recognized the face staring back.

She noticed the dark circles under her eyes first, how they made her eyes appear sunken. With a trembling hand, she moved her fingers along her skin, so pale and sallow. A tear rolled down her cheek, falling against her dry lips. She hadn’t seen herself since the morning before sealing the breach, and it felt like she hadn’t known herself since then either.

Everything had changed.

In the circle she’d retreat to her quarters, shared with other mages, and hide behind books of botany and religion. None of which interested her, but it was an escape. It was safe. She did as she was instructed and kept herself quiet at the First Enchanter’s request. The rumors of blood magic and resentment for her family name soon drifted away as she embraced a life of loneliness and mediocracy.

Her chest tightened and her breath paused. More tears, stinging and hot, escaped her eyes as she sat there staring at herself.

It didn’t matter how well guarded Skyhold could become, how fortified and secure Cullen could make it. It didn’t matter that Leliana threw herself into her work, collecting intelligence, burying her guilt beneath an avalanche of tasks. It didn’t matter how lavish Josephine could make the keep, how impressionable they could appear among nobility. She would have to face Corypheus again. There was no hiding from this.

She didn’t choose to go to the conclave - she was forced. She hadn’t chosen to leave the Circle either.

Never was she given an option when facing attacks from renegade Templars and rebel mages. Fight or die was all she knew, and The Inquisition would not let her escape.

She woke with the anchor, no action of her own could prevent it.

Nothing in Juliette’s life was by choice of her own. Not even her magic, for who would want such a burden?

She'd seen the destruction, the carnage, and the faces of those lost. People starving, children left without homes, and now, she had the choice of several Orlesian soaps. That was the only decision she could make today.

Tomorrow... she could decide the fate of a nation.

Her reflection was an imposter—a stranger staring back at her, an image of someone who carried the weight of a world that wasn’t her own. The title "Herald of Andraste" felt suffocating, and she couldn't even bring herself to wear it with pride.

Inquisitor.

The faces of those lost haunted her—Corypheus's twisted face, the ruin he’d left in his wake. The burden of those lives, now in her hands.

And yet, when she thought of Cullen, the silence was less painful. He could make her smile without trying, perhaps without even knowing. In those moments, the weight of her troubles would fall away. She felt like herself again. The person she never got to be. The woman she’d dream of becoming as a child, before the circle, before the world told her what she was.

She didn’t understand it, how this infatuation could be such a welcoming distraction, how these feelings could so easily sweep her off her feet, leaving her breathless and confused. But there was guilt—an overwhelming, suffocating guilt, and fear.

To be so vulnerable at a time like this... It felt dangerous. The way her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her, the way her thoughts scattered and became a blur in his presence—none of it felt like her choice. The very idea that she could be so undone, so exposed, when so much rested on her shoulders, made her feel weaker than she ever had before.

As she stared at her reflection, her eyes shadowed by exhaustion, Juliette realized something that made her stomach tighten—a truth she had feared for so long: She had no control. Not over her own heart, not over her life, and certainly not over the role she had been forced into.

#cullen rutherford #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #commander cullen #cullen dragon age #cullen romance #cullen x trevelyan #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #dai fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #cullen fanfic #dai #cullen x inquisitor #dai cullen #cullen dai #dai fic #cullvelyan

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regicidal-optimism · 1 year ago

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a fish hook; an open eye || on he xuan, shi qingxuan, and depths

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #beefleaf #he xuan #shi qingxuan #grace dot art #where there's life there's hope

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ravendruid · 10 months ago

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hi hello i would like to request de rolo siblings + rainy days please

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for sending the prompt! I picked Percy and Cass, I hope that's the siblings you were thinking of ^_^ I hope you like it!

Chess and Tea

(Read on AO3)

Cassandra de Rolo takes off her boots with a sigh of relief at finally being able to get out of the soggy clothes she finds herself in. Her thick, woolen socks are drenched, her trousers stick to her legs in a way that makes it hard to walk, and her tunic feels cold and uncomfortable, not to mention her pasty hair dripping down her face. Overall, Cassandra is ready to dry off, put on a comfortable pair of pajamas and spend the rest of her day curled in front of the fire reading. Alas, someone has other plans, if the knock on her bedroom door is any indication.

“Come in,” Cassandra turns to the door, halfway through taking off her drenched jacket. Percival peeks in with his untamed white hair and scraggly snowy beard, dragging a cane Cassandra knows is just for show—and protection—behind him.

“May I?” Percy confirms. Cassandra nods, then gestures towards the small sitting area in front of the already lit fireplace.

“Is everything alright, brother?” Cassandra steps closer to the fire. She feels its warmth travel up her clothes and, even though it doesn’t do much to dry her off, it’s still comforting.

“Not in the slightest.” Percy shakes his head with a fond smile. “I wanted to check in on you. I heard you’ve just arrived from Westruun.”

“I did, yes. Negotiations went well, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“Well,” Percy hesitates. It has been a good two decades since Cassandra saw her brother hesitate and blush the way he is—in fact, she can absolutely recall the last time he did so. It was when he asked her to title Vex’ahlia.

“Percival, no offense. I’m drenched and cold and I would very much like a bath. Can you make this quick, please?” Cassandra interrupts him.

Percy fumbles with the cane, hemming and hawing, then he finally says, “I was wondering if you had some free time to spend with your favorite brother.”

“You are my only brother, Percival,” She rolls her eyes, but gives her older brother a teasing smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, after you bathe and clean yourself, of course,” Percy nods and wrinkles his nose as if to say Cassandra stinks. “I was thinking maybe you could join me for a game of chess over tea and biscuits.”

“What? Chess and tea? Where does this request come from? Do you want something?”

“Can’t a brother just ask his little sister to spend some time just because?” Percy asks, slightly offended. He gets up and strides to Cassandra, then raises his hand as if he is about to rub her hair but thinks better of it and lets the hand fall to his side.

“I suppose. Sure. I will join you in a moment, then.” Cassandra nods, then leads him to the door.

Cassandra joins Percival in the family’s private library. The man is already sitting at a table by the large windows that, on a sunny day, overlook the city. Today, however, they make the room look like they are on the other side of a massive waterfall.

When she approaches, Cassandra notices the fully set up chess board on the table, right next to the tea set and a plate of assorted biscuits, scones and cookies. “Hello, brother. I see you are ready,” She greets Percy, who gets up when he sees her. The gesture is not lost on her. No matter how many decades have passed since they recovered Whitestone, Percival still haunts himself for leaving Cassandra to die in the snow when they were young and escaping.

“I–yes, I am. Please,” Percy extends a hand to the chair, knowing full well Cassandra would fuss about it if he pulled it for her. She might be a lady, but she is his sister first and foremost, and brothers don’t need to pull the chair for their sisters—or at least in their household.

“So, did you really just want to spend time with me?” Cassandra asks. She watches as Percy pours milk into his tea, then she picks up the sugar and drops a cube in her own cup. Percy merely nods, sips the tea and moves his first piece.

“I was wondering how you’ve been? You have been working hard lately, and I have barely seen you.”

Cassandra plays her first move, nothing special to write home about, and nods. “Work has been busy lately, yes. I noticed you have been spending less time in your workshop. Are the kids running you ragged, brother?” She snorts.

“You have no idea,” Percy replies and for the first time in a long time—if not ever—Cassandra really sees the exhaustion and sorrow pooling underneath her brother’s eyes. If the wrinkles on his forehead could speak, they would tell tales of all the guilt Percy carries on his shoulders, of all the concerns and worries he has for his family, his friends, his city, and even the world. “How about you, sister? How are things with Kynan?”

“Good,” Cassandra allows a smile. It wasn’t shocking when, a decade ago, the shy man went to Percy to ask permission to court her. Cassandra rolled in laughter when Kynan told her about the encounter and how threatening Percival was to his captain. “Really good, in fact.”

“Good. I would hate to replace the captain of my guard,” Percy jokes, then his face falls into a serious expression. “Cass… y–you know you can talk to me, right? I understand our relationship hasn’t always been close but… you know I’m here, right, sister?”

“Of course, Percival. I know.” Cassandra says what she has felt like it’s the truth for a while now. “You are my only brother, after all.” She smiles.

“Right you are,” Percy smiles back. He moves a piece on the chessboard that makes Cassandra gasp in outrage, “How dare… Alright. That’s it. I’m about to beat your ass!”

They play the rest of the afternoon—Cassandra manages to beat Percy twice in the three games they play—until the tea grows cold and the rain gives up, allowing the sunset to shine its light on the resplendent, golden leaves of the Sun Tree below in the center of the city.

Every curse has its end, every darkness must fall to the light, and sometimes, an older brother wanting to play chess over tea and biscuits with his younger sister is just an older brother wanting to make up for lost time, and nothing else.

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #percival de rolo #cassandra de rolo #prompted #september prompts #I wrote this with a raging headache so I hope it's good :x #yes I ship Cass and Kynan

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